The poems of John Wilmot: Earl of Rochester Edited by Keith Walker |
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Upon his leaving his Mistriss.
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 | The poems of John Wilmot: Earl of Rochester |  |
37
Upon his leaving his Mistriss.
'Tis not that I'm weary grown,
Of being yours, and yours alone;
But with what Face can I incline,
To damn you to be only mine?
You whom some kinder Pow'r did fashion,
By merit, and by inclination,
The joy at least of one whole Nation.
Of being yours, and yours alone;
But with what Face can I incline,
To damn you to be only mine?
You whom some kinder Pow'r did fashion,
By merit, and by inclination,
The joy at least of one whole Nation.
Let meaner Spirits of your Sex,
With humbler aims, their thoughts perplex,
And boast, if by their Arts they can,
Contrive to make one happy Man;
Whilst mov'd by an impartial Sense,
Favours like Nature you dispense,
With Universal influence.
With humbler aims, their thoughts perplex,
And boast, if by their Arts they can,
Contrive to make one happy Man;
Whilst mov'd by an impartial Sense,
Favours like Nature you dispense,
With Universal influence.
See the kind Seed-receiving Earth,
To ev'ry Grain affords a Birth;
On her no Show'rs unwelcome fall,
Her willing Womb, retains 'em all,
And shall my Celia be confin'd?
No, live up to thy mighty Mind,
And be the Mistriss of Mankind.
To ev'ry Grain affords a Birth;
On her no Show'rs unwelcome fall,
Her willing Womb, retains 'em all,
And shall my Celia be confin'd?
No, live up to thy mighty Mind,
And be the Mistriss of Mankind.
| The poems of John Wilmot: Earl of Rochester | |